All You Gave Me Was Goodbye
by Bmp14
Summary: Emily is seriously considering the offer proposed by Clyde to run the London office... But how will she tell the team? And most importantly, how will she tell the woman she loves? (I am so bad at writing these, excuse me, I promise it is better than the summary details! Please review!)


" _Goodbye."_

The single word pierced the air as I spoke, the foul word seemingly hanging on my lips as I looked into the mirror to the nearly unrecognizable woman staring back at me. Silver wound up the sides of the mirror, the curling at the corners resulting in an airtight feel and bringing a newfound glow to the individual daring to peer back at their seemingly perfected reflection. The perfectly polished glass accompanied by the whirling silver etching added a nearly youthful look to any individual's features, and I nearly jumped back as my eyes scanned over the reflection which seemed to almost study me back. I noticed the way my dress hugged my shivering body first; the neckline low rising and the floral pattern almost accentuating every curve on my body, which ultimately made the goosebumps on my arms and chest more prominent. With the smallest of huffs, I tugged at my dress, making sure that the neckline was centre as I looked into the revelation creating mirror, my hand immediately flying up to my raven curls.

"Emily…" My voice sounded disgustingly cold as it echoed through the nearly unbelievably large washroom, causing a wave of guilt to wash over me as though I am one of those lonely rocks you see near the ocean when the tide comes in and engulfs it. Without any further hesitation I closed my eyes, my hands working aimlessly to fiddle with my knot of hair as memories began to flood my mind. Memories in which I will soon be leaving in Virginia as I moved an ocean away. 'How will she take it?' These five words constantly ran through my exhausted brain. How would the woman who I have been aimlessly in love with for years take the news that I was moving? No. Moving wasn't even the correct word to use in this case. I was _leaving_. Leaving the team who had acted the part of a family for me. Leaving the friends I had made along the way. But perhaps the most devastating and almost indescribably painful loss was the one by the name of Jennifer Jareau. It was like there was a gaping hole forming in the centre of my heart every time I spoke to the woman; from her ocean blue eyes that held so much emotion and intensity, the very same blue eyes that I had looked into whenever I was facing the nightmares of Ian Doyle coming back to haunt me, and her beautiful blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders and shone from the lavender shampoo I so desperately fell in love with, to the more unnoticable things such as the small dimples on either side of her cheeks that only _truly_ showed up when she did the adorable, side splitting laugh of hers. When the woman laughed, the world almost stopped for a moment, and you couldn't help but to join in. It was times like these that I resented myself even more so for the information that I had been withholding from JJ since I returned to the BAU, but she deserved to be happy. There had been a few times where I, on the verge of explosion due to the impending secret, literally bit the inside of my cheek so hard that the oh so familiar metallic taste of blood seasoned my tongue. "Emily… Why are you doing this? To yourself? To the team? To _her?"_

I knew almost as soon as I said the words that there was someone standing in the doorway, and suddenly, as I looked up from my now perfectly centered neckline, I saw the simplistic yet gorgeous white gown, and I knew that this conversation was going to be the death of me. Her hair was done up in a messy twist, I'm assuming which was done by her mother, with two perfect strands coming down to frame her face. The curled blonde pieces of hair hung down and, in an attempt to shift the attention to something other than the deafening silence, JJ lifted a petite hand up to her face and used her nimble fingers to brush one of the strands behind her ear. Both of us stood in silence for what seemed like eternity, and neither of us moved or even dared to breathe too loud for fear of breaking the equilibrium that we had established involuntarily. Finally, I allowed my chocolate brown eyes to land on the blonde's before me, and my breath hitches in my throat at the example of true beauty that stood before me. Jennifer wore her own mother's wedding dress, which was sentimental and held gorgeous meaning in itself, but the woman was absolutely stunning, the white gown emphasizing every last detail of the blonde's body; from the hanging neckline which showed off her collarbones, to the way that the beautiful gown seemingly swept the floor behind her in a flawless movement of fabric with each step. I allowed myself a few moments to process the sight of the woman whom stood in the doorway in front of me before I realized the somber expression that most definitely was obvious across my facial features, immediately plastering a forced smile in place of the saddened frown. With a sigh that could have been interpreted either as content or upset, I held out both hands to the smaller woman leaning against the doorframe with an attempted squeal of happiness. Truthfully, I wanted nothing more than to be overjoyed for my coworker. I wanted to be able to replace my forced smile with a honest one, to have wrapped my arms around the woman dressed in white, to have hugged her to no appeal, and to spill out my congratulations to both the new husband and the new bride, rather than to be hiding my very overdressed self in the washroom of David Rossi's mansion.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Em. You don't have to stand there and look me in the eye. You don't have to _pretend_ to be happy for me, because, in reality, we both know that you are the absolute _furthest_ thing from happy right now. Emily Prentiss, just please _talk_ to me. Yell at me, scream if you must… Just please don't shut me out because you have an awfully bad habit of doing such…" Jennifer's words trailed off almost as soon as they broke the imminent silence, the blonde's voice echoing through the massive washroom and seemingly bouncing back to the two of us. In a split second decision and four large strides, I was standing in front of Jennifer Jareau, her beautiful, pale skin accentuated due to the angelic white. The woman was glowing, and I was in no place to take her happiness from her. And yet, I felt this burning feeling growing in the pit of my stomach. Something that I knew I needed to do. Without any further hesitation, my lips were on Jennifer's in an incredibly gentle kiss, and despite my previous thoughts, I could feel a pair of smaller hands cupping my reddening cheeks. This was the confirmation that I believed we both needed; the feeling of our bodies pressed together, our lips locked in this one blissful kiss. When I was finally forced to pull away from the one thing I wanted most in life, my chocolate brown eyes flashed in a nearly immeasurable amount of sadness, for the realization hit me, and suddenly it was as though someone was pressing down on my chest and taking all of the air from my lungs. At this point, it finally sunk in that Jennifer Jareau was my air, the reason I woke up every morning without prevail, the only viable explanation as to why, after all of those years of seeing _unspeakable_ things at the BAU, that I, Emily Prentiss, was able to reside on my couch with a glass of wine and even the smallest of smiles. Now, I had to leave her; the air I breathed the moment I realized that I was falling head over heels for her, my excuse to smile from ear to ear even after the devastating things that we, as a team, had to witness, and my rock, the one I turned to on countless occasions to open up to… And it was going to hurt like a bitch.


End file.
